Subject: Don’t make it Pretty
From: <Saved by Microsoft Internet Explorer 5>
Date: Thu, 26 Apr 2001 04:46:12 -0500

Don’t
Make It Pretty

When you’re writing of
beatings

Or children
abused

When you’re trying to
show

Why the creep stands
accused

Keep it
raw

Let them see what you
saw

As you scream out your
rage

They will still turn the
page

Horrified yet enthralled

By the tale you are
telling

Of evil which hides in
the dark

This isn’t a
romance

It’s not Home and
Garden

Not a walk in the
park

(Unless that’s where the
fiend found his mark)

It’s abuse you are
spelling

out for your subscribers
to read

Let them know how it
hurt

Don’t be begging their
pardon

The secret you’re
guarding

You’re now setting
free

Free to
fly,

Free to
soar

Free to shout from the
rooftops

The secret stops
here

This I
swear!

It’s a secret no
more

If you
dare

They won’t relish your
fear

They will
care

OK, that’s not
true

There are always a
few

Who will thrill to the
chase

And embrace with great
pleasure

Your bone-chilling
nightmare,

the pain that’s
inflicted

And yell
“Boo!”

If a monster’s
convicted

They will think it’s
deserved

And that you’ve got some
nerve

To serve up as
abuse

What they want as hors
d'oeuvres

“It’s a lie!” they will
scream

As they revel in sick
little dreams

And the monkey that
rides them

Will feed. .
.

For the twisted get off
when you bleed

But you’re not writing
for them

You are trying to
tell

The good
people

Who live

Far away from this
hell

You want THEM to
listen

You want THEM to
know

You are trying to
show

These are real tears
that glisten

As you tell what it like
to live caged

Don’t you get it?

You want them
enraged!

For those broken and
battered

Their blood spattered
‘round

As they’re knocked to
the ground

As they hear their bones
break

And don’t know that
they’ve made no mistake

That black-hearted lout

Has succeeded in faking
them out

The doubt that’s
created

Makes abusers
elated

They thrive on
confusion

Rely on
collusion

With their chosen
victims

And society blind

He prefers that the mind
set

Is ignorant, trusting
and kind

For that’s how he gets
off ,

With a con

. . .that he’s just been
maligned

When you make the tale
pretty

You give lie to the
pain

When you try to
refrain

From the plain ugly
truth

It just covers it
up

But it still stinks
below

And that stench may need
airing

Let the words you are
sharing

Take seed, in the light
of truth’s glow

Awareness needs
light

Not some bright window
dressing

Quit messing
around

Trying to polish and
shine

You’re trying to
expose

Not excuse the sick
swine

Let the truth stand as
stated

As you grimly relayed
it

Stamp it
authenticated

For the whole world to
see

Tell them just how it
feels

To be battered or
raped

That the monster escaped

Because justice is
blind

Most of them aren’t
unkind

They just want to
believe

That a villain is locked
up

Without any
reprieve

Or they’re frightened
that looking too closely

Might just bring it
home

No one wants to believe
that a monster

Is still free to
roam

So again, for a third
time

I tell you quite
plain

Keep the message real
raw

And try to
refrain

From making it
pretty

You can’t, so don’t
bother

Yes, the truth
hurts

But so does a
lie

And maybe

If we get truth
across

Less will suffer and
die

CJH –
06/06/00

Carol Y.
Huber © - 05/17/00

Carol
Y. Huber is a Wordsmith who writes Poetry, Essays and other ‘Stuff’.  Once upon a time she had the unofficial
job title of  “The Paradox Lady”.
She kept it.  Nowadays she is
somewhat known in Dallas poetry circles for both solo performance poetry and as
a member of “Fine Piece of Mischief”; an ensemble group of some of fine female
poets.  Her writings ask questions,
pose challenges, and often offer possible answers. Any answers are offered with
a gleam in her eye and this reminder:

Answers
that work for her may or may not work for anyone else.